Midnight Conversations
by Dragon's Daughter 1980
Summary: He kissed her before he asked, "Do you want to elope?" She laughed, "I don't think we'd get away with it."
1. Chapter 1

**Midnight Conversations**

By Dragon's Daughter 1980

Disclaimer: Other being a fan, I don't have anything to do with Stargate: Atlantis.

Author's Notes: Though this was written as a future moment based in my "Eternity" universe, it can be read as a stand-alone. Either way, it's pure fluff. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

"Do you think this is getting out of hand?" she asked him as they lay together in bed. Judging by her tone, it was a rhetorical question on her part, but he answered it anyway as he pulled her closer to him. She cuddled against him with a contented sigh, resting her head against his shoulder. Unable to resist, he began playing with the silky curls of her hair.

"Possibly," he deadpanned and pressed a kiss against her temple, "Do you want to elope?"

She laughed and looked up at him with mischievous eyes that sparkled in the moonlight, "I don't think we'll get away with it."

"Come on," he teased, "you know that Chuck loves you and Evan never minds when I leave him in charge of the city for a little while. We could write a note, grab a jumper and escape to PX4-519. I'm sure the Reians will be thrilled to host a wedding."

"Oh no," she chuckled, shaking her head gently, "absolutely not." He stared at her, the silvery moonlight casting a soft glow on her features, easing the lines and wrinkles of stress and worry on her forehead. As he did every night, he silently thanked whatever or whomever had given him this blessing: to be with her as friend, partner, lover and more, for as long as they both lived. Though he knew the reasons behind her response with perfect clarity, he asked "Why not? They've practically adopted you as one of their sisters."

"For one thing, it could possibly be worse than staying here. Their ceremonies take weeks to prepare for, and we'd need my blood-family and yours to give consent, in person, at the ceremony, which would mean that Woolsey and Steven, respectively—"

"Okay, okay," he said quickly, the reminder that his part-time Commanding Officer had been presented as his "uncle" to their allies two year ago was a bit much for this conversation, "So we're not going to the Reians. What about the Athosians? Teyla said their marriage ceremonies are short on prep time, long on celebration, and we wouldn't need to have our relatives there because they already know about us, so all we need are three people and Teyla….Oh."

"'Oh' is right," she said, picking up on his train of thought, "because Teyla would need to officiate and that's hardly an elopement."

"What about Halling?" he suggested with mock desperation. "He has to have stood in for Teyla before."

"Teyla will kill you if we elope," she responded with mock sternness.

"Why would she kill _me_? She knows you have me wrapped around your little finger."

"Because she'd know that you were the one who brought up the idea in the first place."

He sighed, "Yeah. There is that." He stroked her shoulder with gentle fingers, "I just wish that this wasn't so complicated."

"I know," she sighed, "but when have our lives even been uncomplicated?"

"It's just one day, you know…" he traced aimless patterns on her skin, "one day out of the rest of our lives. I wish the bureaucracy and all that would just stay out of it."

She propped herself on one elbow and turned onto her side to look at him before faking a Southern accent and saying, "Why, John Sheppard, you _are_ a closet romantic."

"So are you," he retorted without any heat. She draped her free arm over his chest and rested her chin on her other hand, "That's true."

He kissed her nose and she laughed, "So what are we two romantics to do in this little conundrum?"

"Well," he leaned back against the headboard, "If you're willing to take on the IOA, I'll take on the city and we'll convince them all to leave us alone?"

She smiled as she turned onto her back and scooted close to him, "I don't think that'd work too well."

Putting his arm around her shoulders, he sighed, "So I guess we're going through with this then…."

"One on Earth, with all the pomp and ceremony—"

"Do we have to invite the IOA?" he asked, giving her a Look that fairly begged her to say no.

"It's polite," she sighed, "But yes, I hope they can't make it either. But Jack and George have both gone to bat for us, so have Samantha and Daniel…we owe them the chance to see our happiness. Plus, it's not like the President can disappear for a month and not have the entire world in uproar."

"That is a little surreal," he admitted, "that he's going to attend."

She shrugged, "I don't know what Jack said to him, but just try not to panic too much."

He gave her a mock glare, "My Commander-in-Chief is going to be at my wedding ceremony, and I'm not supposed to panic?"

She smiled ruefully, "You won't be the only one."

He nodded and started tracing invisible patterns up and down her arm, "Then we spend a week in Prague before we board the Daedalus and spend eighteen days freaking out Caldwell."

She playfully slapped his shoulder, "John!"

"What? I'm just saying!"

"No mischief," she said sternly. He chuckled, "I do have some sense of self-preservation."

"Oh?" she raised a questioning eyebrow. He shifted nervously and didn't respond, which was an answer in and of itself.

"Oh no…" she groaned quietly, her voice muffled in the covers, "_Please_ don't tell me he _actually_—" She looked at him with exasperation in her eyes.

"It wasn't as awkward as…" He cleared his throat. "Can we not talk about this?"

"Yes," she agreed quickly, because it was rather embarrassing whenever she thought about the number of people who had come to her over the past few months and offered to "teach him a lesson" if he ever hurt her in any way. After a moment of silence, she said, "And then when we get back here…"

"The entire city goes nuts and throws us a gigantic wedding, complete with a massive reception and a lot of guests …" he said and then added thoughtfully, "possibly a lot of very drunk guests if Halling brings out the moonshine."

He felt her body shake as she muffled her laughter with one hand. The last time Halling brought moonshine to a party, things had gotten quite….celebratory. Besides several unforgettable karaoke performances, half the city had woken up with massive hangovers that even six cups of Rodney's strong coffee couldn't cure. As for the other half…they learned that there was going to be a noticeable increase in the city's below three years old population by the end of the year. When she got her giggles under control, she uncovered her mouth.

"We'll just have to make sure it doesn't get too out of hand," she said with a smile in her voice. He ran a hand through her curls, "I don't want you to stress yourself out over it."

"I have a few dozen of our most important and dearest allies to worry about," she responded dryly, "and that's not even talking about the planning that has to go into this so we don't offend anyone. I'll try not to stress."

"So does that mean I'm allowed to haul you out of long, boring meetings to have my way with you?" he teased hopefully. She rolled her eyes, "No, absolutely not."

"Not even once?"

"No."

"All right, fine," he sighed with mock disappointment before he looked at her, "You're _that_ worried that Rodney was serious about the Botany Department and sex-pheromone plants?"

"After what happened last month? Yes," she admitted, "I'm slightly concerned. Katie's been incredibly evasive for the past few weeks."

"I'm sure that Katie's putting something fantastic together and she just wants it to be a surprise. She doesn't strike me as the type to be overly adventurous."

"You haven't seen her on Poker Night," she commented without thinking. He, and the rest of the male population, was intensely curious about what happened on Ladies' Poker Night. It was a point of ongoing teasing between couples about the gossip and plotting that went on behind closed doors. Nothing really did, besides a lot of female-only time, but it was still fun to speculate and tease.

"Oh?"

"That's all you're getting out of me, Minister."

"Oh, really?" He slid his hands under the covers and started tickling her sides. "Do you want to test that?"

She shrieked with giggles and tried to pull away, "Oh no, you don't."

He flipped her over and pinned her to the bed, trapping her with his heavier weight. He caught her wrists when she tried to push him away and then froze. It took a few moments before she stopped laughing and by then, they both had other ideas on their minds that had only a tangential relation to their conversation.

Letting go of her hands, he leaned forward and kissed her lazily, almost chaste, but not quite. She responded in kind, running her hands through his hair before pulling him closer to her. Enough words, they decided silently, enough for tonight.

As his hands caressed her skin, his delicate touch said

_I love you._

Her eyes told him as she nipped his collarbone

_I know._

Her wordless cry in the darkness of their bedroom was enough to say

_I'm yours._

Just before they drifted off to sleep, they kissed again, sealing their silent vows to each other.

_Forever._


	2. Chapter 2

**Midnight Conversations**

By Dragon's Daughter 1980

Disclaimer: Other than being a fan, I have nothing to do with Stargate: Atlantis

Author's Notes: Here's another peek into the "Eternity" universe. I would also like to wish everyone a Happy Veterans' Day.

* * *

"Can't sleep?"

Pausing in her typing, she looked up from her laptop to see him standing on the other side of the table in the empty mess hall. He grinned at her and held out a steaming cup of tea, while she accepted with gratitude.

"Thanks," she murmured, savoring the warmth that spread through her body with every sip of the fragrant drink. After walking around the plastic table, he set his own mug down and took the seat next to her. Taking one more swallow of tea, she felt the tension seep out of her back muscles before she set the hot liquid down next to her laptop.

"You didn't answer my question," he said, picking up his own cup and drinking from it.

"Just a little bit," she sighed. He studied her for a moment and then tapped her left shoulder with his free hand, "Turn around."

She was fairly sure that her exhaustion was making her thought processes slower than usual, but she wasn't able to follow his train of thought as she usually did. She stared at him blankly, "What?"

Smiling softly over the rim of his mug, he said with amusement, "Turn your back to me."

With a stiff shrug, she shifted in the chair until she was almost perched on the edge of the seat, her back facing him. She heard a soft clink when he set his mug down again before his chair scraped roughly against the patterned-metal floor of the mess hall. His hands were warm through her uniform when they settled down on her shoulders and she nearly yelped in pain when he dug his fingers into tensely coiled muscles.

"You seriously need to relax," he said quietly as he massaged her body with firm, but gentle motions. She sighed again and tried to melt into his ministrations, fighting the natural urge to tense up against the pain.

"I need to finish this briefing report."

"Your mother and sister-in-law love me," he pointed out, "if you're worried about that. Plus, your brother seems to have come around to the idea of me marrying you."

A soft moan of contentment escaped her, "It's not them."

"Your nieces and nephew love me," he continued thoughtfully, "so I don't see where you'd think I'd have a problem with your family."

"It's not my family," she maintained.

"My bother isn't going to shun you or anything like that," he told her in reassurance, working his way down her spine. "He likes you a lot, and for some reason, thinks you're a good influence on me."

"I'm not?" she teased. He dropped a kiss in her hair before confiding in her, "You are, but don't tell him he's right, or I'll never hear the end of it."

"I'm not worried about that," she said quietly. "And you don't need me to be a good influence on you. You never have."

"Then what's bothering you?"

"Nothing," she said with a shrug. Even though she couldn't see his expression, she practically felt his skepticism. She added futilely, "Really. I'm fine."

"Uh-huh," he said dryly, running his hands down her arms in a soothing gesture, "If this is about the IOA posturing again, screw them. We've got Woolsey, O'Neil, the entire SGC and the President on our side. Oh, and did I mention an entire city of people and more than a few planets who are backing us too?"

She twisted a little bit away from him to look at him, "So you're telling me you're not worried about the review board?"

He shrugged resignedly and sighed, "What can we do about it? Nothing. We've been together for two years, working together for three before that. We haven't let our personal lives skew our decisions despite any "personal involvement" and we've proven that it's not a problem for us to keep the two separate."

She nodded, "I know… There's a new member on the committee."

"You think he's going to try to make his mark by coming after us."

"I don't know," she sighed, leaning into him. He rubbed her shoulders reassuringly. "I just don't want to spend our honeymoon _defending_ our marriage."

"I'll defend your honor anytime," he murmured in her ear. She laughed quietly, "I know, but he'll be coming after me, I hope."

"You hope?" his voice wavered with a blend of incredulity and chauvinistic outrage. She knew that he didn't like it whenever political enemies came after her, even though he knew and trusted her to take care of herself. She nodded as she said with a degree of primal satisfaction, "Then I can tear him into little bits."

She felt his shocked stare and she slipped away from his comforting touch to look at him. There was a mix of surprise, concern and a hint of pride in his eyes as he asked rhetorically, "Elizabeth Weir, talking about tearing someone to bits? What happened to the diplomat I first met?"

"She met the Reians," she responded dryly. "In case you haven't noticed, they're rather protective of people they consider family."

Taking his seat again, he chuckled lightly, "Like the time Medora threatened to take you back to Reiia if I didn't tell her who you were or when Matian came after Rodney in the Control Room because he thought Rodney was hitting on Tilda?"

"The latter," she said. He whistled, "Impressive. So, does this mean that if he tries anything, you'll pick up a coffee mug and threaten to bash his head in?"

She laughed, "No, of course not. Violence is not my style."

"That's not what Teyla says after your morning sessions with her," he said dubiously, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief. "Just how good are you at _kakea_ anyway?"

She shrugged and smiled mysteriously before she switched to the melodious language of _kakea_, a highly defensive method of combat that was primarily taught to women, children and others who were not expected to fight, such as diplomats. Putting a hand on his arm, she teased, "That is for us women to know, and men to respect."

He arched an eyebrow, "That's not an answer, Elizabeth."

She grinned at him, "Is too."

"Is not," he argued back playfully, dragging his chair closer to hers. "For one thing, that wasn't English."

She giggled as she scooted back in her seat in response to his encroachment on her personal space. A half-gasp of surprise and pleasure escaped her as he closed the distance between their bodies. Just before he could have kissed her, he abruptly sat back in his chair, his expression bland and posture professional. Taking his unspoken lead, she straightened her spine and reached for her cup of warm tea.

"Colonel, Doctor," one of the crew said politely when he passed by their table on his way to the coffee machine. He had the look of someone who had been assigned to the eight-hour night shift for the duration of the Daedalus' return voyage to Earth and was somewhat desperate for caffeine. She thought he looked a little like Jennifer after a double-shift in the infirmary: exhausted and coffee-deprived. It was a little odd, though, to see someone looking like they were asleep on their feet when everything had been quiet on the trip. She made a note to check with Caldwell in the morning.

"Sergeant," her fiancé said casually with a solemn nod. She smiled graciously at the young man, "Good evening, Sergeant."

After the young officer had walked past their table, she turned to her companion and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged casually in response to her silent question. She rolled her eyes at him before she randomly choose a subject, "So what do you think of the Geology department's proposal?"

She didn't remember the precise details of the Geology's latest proposal regarding off-world security for its personnel, but she was pretty sure that he hadn't had a chance to read it yet. If he had, she didn't know where he found the time to sit down and do so.

For one thing, he had been occupied with intensive orientation and off-world exploration training for the newest members of the city's military forces who had arrived on the Daedalus. While most of the Marines were veteran SGC personnel, fighting the Wraith (who saw people, literally, as food) was vastly different than fighting the Milky Way's neighborhood bad guys (who could stick snakes in people's heads and control them like marionettes or torture and incinerate people with a look, depending on who the SGC were up against at the current moment), and that required not only a mental readjustment but also a tactical shift in strategy and operations.

For another, when he wasn't busy with the details of running over a hundred Marines and more support troops through exacting drills, he was helping her sort through the chaos that resulted from planning a wedding ceremony that would take place in _another _galaxy. That wasn't even taking into consideration the complications of having half their guests being Earth-stationed soldiers and the other half being normal civilians who had no idea that aliens actually existed, never mind that it was possible to travel to and live in other galaxies. It was insanity every Tuesday, just before the weekly databurst was sent to the SGC, as the two of them hurried to straighten out their plans and requests

(and the invitations and reservations and the caterers and the minister, no wait, the justice of the peace, no… maybe?, and the flowers, oh! and the bridal dress, how could they have forgotten?! then there were the bridesmaids and the tuxes that needed to be taken care of, wait, he would be in his dress blues, so not six but five tuxes because Daniel might not have a tux but David would, but speaking of dress blues, could he wear his Antarctic Service medal without raising questions? For that matter, wouldn't the press try to weasel their way into the ceremony because, after all, the President was in attendance? That was problematic. Maybe they could, _should_, just elope…It would save them all these headaches)

to Earth before the time passed for their check-in with their birth planet. All of this was, of course, on top of his regular duties… and she was sure that she occupied the precious amount of spare time that he did have with other activities that didn't necessarily require focused amounts of concentration, but that he devoted energy to all the same. He certainly slept soundly every night they were together, and Teyla had confided that the rest of his team was carefully shortening his hours on watch when they were off-world, to give him more time to rest.

In other words, she was fairly sure he would have no idea what she was talking about and that she could expect playful retaliation at the earliest opportunity. Still, the pranking she would have to put up with was worth seeing the challenge in his eyes when he realized what she was doing. Caught in a situation where he could, but didn't have to invent a response, he gamely said, "Yes. It needs a little tinkering, but it could be viable."

"Barring?" she asked, playing on his skeptical tone. He gave her a mild glare, but continued to play along with the charade until the crewmember had left. When they were alone again, he poked her gently in her ribs, where she was most ticklish. In reaction, she let out an involuntary and completely undignified squeal.

"You're evil," he pronounced with a mischievous look in his eyes. She laughed, "It wasn't like we could talk about anything else."

He tilted his head, "Well…we could have talked about our little escapades."

"What escapades?" she asked innocently, even as she felt her cheeks heating up. She knew what he was talking about, and while most of the "escapes" ran along the lines of him ambushing her in the corridors between meetings and dragging her off to a quiet section of the city for a good meal, there were quite a handful that did merit her reaction. He smirked, his flyboy charm turned on full-force as he said airy, "Oh, I think you know. That time out on the balcony by the South—"

"You are impossible, John Sheppard!" She knew that she was definitely blushing in embarrassment right now. She knew precisely what he was talking about, and _that_ particular memory was an incident that she'd prefer to have stay firmly between the two of them. His only reaction was to shrug innocently.

"Are you finished with your tea?" he asked. She snorted, "No."

"Finish up," he said, putting aside his own empty mug. She rolled her eyes, but did as he asked because there was no arguing with him when he got that tone of voice. The few times she had, he had either dragged her away from work anyway (with a combination of cajoling, coaxing and mock threats that involved Ronon, Carson, Caroline or a combination of the three) or stayed by her bedside in the infirmary and politely refrained from saying "I told you so" when she woke up with a migraine. While she wasn't sure what he _could_ do if she didn't listen to him while they were both on Steven's ship, she wasn't willing to risk finding out. It would be highly embarrassing if any of the crew saw her being slung over John's shoulder and carried back to her quarters, or anything vaguely like that. It was just safer to go along with his requests.

If there was anything she learned that was constant about John, it was that he was always highly creative when he was properly motivated. She wasn't sure if it was her misfortune as Atlantis' auxiliary leader or her blessing as a woman that he was always properly motivated when it came to her well-being and safety. She set down her cup with an exaggerated flourish, "Done."

"Good." He leaned forward and closed her laptop before tucking it under his arm as he stood up. She surged to her feet, irritation in her voice, "What are you doing?"

She made a fruitless attempt to snatch her laptop back from him, but he easily dodged her lunge and gave her a Look that told her he knew she was only half-hearted protesting the forced end of her workday. They both knew her computer had an autosave function that kicked in very three minutes, backed up her data to a separate hard drive every fifteen minutes and merely hibernated when its top was closed. Plus, she hadn't even looked at the screen for the past twenty minutes, so he knew she wasn't actually working on anything vitally important to the expedition.

"_I_ am escorting a tired diplomat back to her quarters," he said, graciously offering her an arm before he added with mock haste, "preferably without her attempting to strangle me."

She glared at him, but she knew he knew her heart wasn't in it. Both of them knew she would rather be in bed and sound asleep at this late hour, but her body just seemed to refuse to rest. With mock grumpiness, she accepted his arm and leaned against him as they walked out of the mess hall. She justified the unusual display of public affection with the fact that she was with her husband-to-be, and it was late, so there weren't that many crewmembers roaming the corridors. Arm and arm, they strolled leisurely down the sleek metal hallways, content in their silence. If it wasn't for the distinct lack of wide-open windows or for the shimmering sapphire view of hyperspace that was visible through the occasional transparent surface, she would have thought that they might have been back in Atlantis at the end of a long day, making their way back to their shared quarters after a quiet dinner.

However, for the duration of the journey, they were posted in separate, but adjoining quarters. So when they got to her door, she hesitated before she punched in the key code. She didn't quite want to ask him in, but she didn't want to be alone either. He took the decision out of her hands when he escorted her inside without a word. As the door slid shut behind them, he slipped away from her to put her laptop on her small desk.

He reached out and flipped on the desk lamp, "Go and get changed, all right?"

She moved toward her bags, "You'll stay?"

Pulling out her desk chair and sitting down, he shrugged casually, "At least until you're asleep."

"You don't have to," she told him, gathering her night clothes and moving toward the bathroom.

"I want to," he said quietly. She looked at him, lounging in the chair, and she could see the fatigue written in the lines on his face. Neither of them was as young as they used to be and they couldn't skimp on sleep as often as they did.

"All right," she said softly before she turned away from him and walked into the bathroom, the door sliding shut behind her. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her toothbrush and turned on the faucet. She wished he could occasionally relinquish control of the situation to his subordinates and learn that, at the end of the day, he couldn't carry the heavy responsibility of ensuring everyone's safety on Atlantis alone, that he didn't need to take on all the guilt for everyone they had lost over the years. As she began brushing her teeth, she nearly laughed at the irony of her thoughts. She was one to talk about giving up control to other people, even trusted friends, and she definitely had the habit of carrying the sole responsibility of running Atlantis on her shoulders.

'Hello pot,' she thought wryly to her reflection, 'your kettle is waiting for you outside.'

After a quick shower to wash away the day's stresses, she unlocked the door with a yawn and stepped out into her main living space. She stopped and took in the dimly-lit sight before her. While she had been in the bathroom, he had taken off his boots and stretched out on top of her comforter on her narrow bed, folding his arms behind his head as he dozed. When he heard her move back into the room, he opened his eyes and smiled lazily at her, "Hi."

It was then, seeing him so unguarded with her, that she was struck again by the realization that she wanted to fall asleep in his arms every night and wake up with him by her side every morning. She wanted him in her bed, not just as a lover, but as a partner, someone to comfort her and to love her for the rest of her life. She wanted to share with him all of life's joys and sorrows, and hold nothing back.

With a happy smile on her face, she walked over to the bed and sat down, tucking herself under the covers. He brushed his lips across her cheek before he sat up and rolled off of the bed cover.

"Wait…" she protested quietly, propping herself up on one elbow.

"Stay," he said firmly, going over to her desk and shutting off the light before returning to lay down beside her, staying on top of her covers. He ran gentle fingers through her hair and she nearly closed her ears and purred. He murmured quietly, "Go to sleep, Elizabeth. I'll stay here."

She made a noise of contentment as she slipped back under her covers and curled up next to him. A part of her mind relaxed and she realized that she hadn't been able to sleep because her body was too used to having him there to sleep without him. That could be a problem later on, but she put aside the concern to focus on the moment now. She was almost on the edge of sleep when she felt her bed shift a little and the warm body behind her disappeared. Turning sleepily around, she opened her eyes to see him sit up on the edge of her bed. As if sensing she was awake, he turned to look at her.

"Stay?" she asked quietly in the darkness, reaching out for him and settling a hand on his arm. He paused and then lay back down, this time slipping underneath the covers with her. Draping an arm across her waist, he pulled her close and she felt both of them relax. She snuggled closer to him while he shifted until they were both in a position where neither one of them would fall off of the narrow surface in the middle of the night.

"Good night," he whispered, brushing his lips over hers. She kissed him lazily before she told him, "Good night."

They tangled themselves together, skin on skin, finding comfort in the other's presence. Their lives had become as interwoven in their sleep as it was in their waking hours, and it had become as mindless and cherished as breathing for both of them to spend the night together.

Content with their place in the universe, they fell asleep in each other's arms.


End file.
